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Remember my fabulous birthday gift to my husband this year?
The chance for him to live his dream of attending the taping of an Antique Roadshow?
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Well, the bastards didn’t choose our entry.
My husband won’t be able to stand in line for hours clutching his beloved treasures. He won’t be able to meet the Keno brothers, or chat up Kevin Zavian. Even though I sent in our form the day after they announced, even though my husband is their number one fan.
Damn them.
My guy is inconsolable.
😰
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In my continuing search to bring something unusual to the Antique Roadshow ( should we be chosen ) I submit this possibility.
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It’s a small obscure political booklet that I can’t find anywhere online.
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Privately published in 1938 by a group of ridiculously wealthy Republicans ( one of whom my mother dated in later years ) it’s a scathing satire of FDR and his New Deal policies.
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I’ve often thought of donating it to the FDR museum at Hyde Park…
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But maybe a trip to the Roadshow should come first.
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Should we take the old map that hangs over our living room mantle to the Antiques Roadshow if our ticket entry is chosen?
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It’s a beautiful thing. Gifted to my parents for their wedding in 1958.
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The date is 1792.
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It has sea monsters…
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As well as indigenous people…
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And curious wildlife.
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It appears hand colored and though I couldn’t find the exact same one online…
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It could be worth a few bucks if original.
Problem?
I don’t think it is. The paper seems wrong, and on close inspection…
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It has weird dots I can’t find on any other example.
I doubt it’s foxing…
And would rather not waste an Antique Roadshow opportunity on something that’s not an antique.
The search continues.
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My husband’s dream may be coming true.
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Bring an avid collector, one of my guy’s favorite programs is Antiques Roadshow. He watches it religiously, envious of all the people who clean out their attics and find priceless treasure.
While I watch the show and see hundreds of people standing in endless lines in the hot sun, clutching and dragging cumbersome objects, inching forward in slow motion for a mind boggling number of tedious hours, just to spend two minutes with an appraiser who tells them grandma’s objet d’art is a fake…
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My husband sees the lucky 6 out of 6,000 people who have something worthy and simply knows that could be him.
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So when I saw this article in a local paper…
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I decided to give him the chance to be lucky.
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After a bit of research I discovered you don’t pay for tickets, they’re free. The catch is… the only way to get them is to enter a sweepstakes. You sign up, submit your name (one per household) and hope they pick you.
So that’s what I did.
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And since my husband’s birthday is right around the bend, I printed that announcement out and put it in a wrapped gift box.
My fingers are crossed they pick our name… not because I want to stand in line for all those bunion busting hours, but because I love my guy and it would make him happy.
And hey, the blog fodder factor could be off the charts.
😉
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River's world..... 